


Between the Lines

by blackmustache



Category: Firefly
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-03 11:26:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackmustache/pseuds/blackmustache
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is what happens when subtext becomes text. A retelling of Serenity, the movie not the pilot, with a Mal/Simon slashy slant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Lines

**TITLE:** Between the Lines  
 **SUMMARY:** This is what happens when subtext becomes text.  
 **PAIRING:** Mal/Simon  
 **RATING:** R. Maybe. At the most.  
 **TIMELINE:** During the movie, so, spoilers. But I skip over some major plot points that aren’t relevant to *my* story, so you really need to have seen the movie rather than just be spoiled for it.  
 **DISCLAIMER:** I own nothing. Really, I do. Nothing what-so-ever.  
 **DISTRIBUTION:** Uhh … if you want it, ask! I’ll say yes. I don’t remotely bite :D  
 **DEDICATION:** For [](http://catchmelike.livejournal.com/profile)[**catchmelike**](http://catchmelike.livejournal.com/). Because she let me drag her into the Mal/Simon world, and let me test this out on her before I posted.

  
Simon stood opposite Kaylee, and listened patiently while she gave him advice he didn’t really need. “Don’t talk to the barkers, talk to the captains. You look the captain in the eye, know who you’re dealing with.” His eyes darted over to Mal for a second before settling back on Kaylee. He honestly doubted that if he’d followed those guidelines in the first place, he’d have ended up on Serenity at all.

“I wish there was-” he started, but was interrupted by Mal pushing between them, glaring at Simon. He was fairly sure it was a ‘ _don’t you be saying anything to break her heart, just leave and have done with it’_ glare, but with Mal there was often no way to tell. He stared off after the captain, not wanting a long drawn out goodbye with Kaylee, just wanting to go, and never look back.

He forced his attention back to Kaylee as she finished her spiel of things-not-to-do. “And don’t ride in anything with a Capissen 38 engine, they fall right out of the sky.” She demonstrated the falling motion with her hand, and it was such a Kaylee thing to do that Simon almost wanted to laugh.

Instead, he composed himself. “Kaylee…” It was her turn to glare. Unlike with Mal, he knew exactly what this glare was saying. _Don’t you dare say anything sweet, not now, not when you’re leaving._ Saying her name like that had gotten him into trouble in the past - what was he supposed to follow it up with, anyway? Whatever he was going to say, it wouldn’t be what she was hoping. And somehow he didn’t think that “Kaylee, I’ve been sleeping with the captain,” would be the best words to part on.

So he just let her run into the Maidenhead after the others.

And she’d sure gotten herself all kinds of worked up by the time she caught up with them. Mal could barely get a word in edgewise ‘til she made _that_ comment about her nethers, and then she accused him of not caring, and it pushed one button too many.

“You knew he was gonna leave. We’ve never been but a way station to those two. And how do you know what he feels? He’s got River to worry on, but he still coulda shown you…” Mal’s voice was bitter now, and he wasn’t talking about Kaylee any longer. He was just verbalising the argument he’d been having in his own head for the last ten hours, and it was only through luck that what he said could apply to Kaylee, too. Taking a breath, he tried a different tack. “If I truly wanted someone bad enough, wouldn’t be a thing in the ‘verse could stop me from going to her.” That different tack just happened to be a lie, but he was hoping it would be one that would get Kaylee off his back, at the very least.

Instead of leaving him alone, she narrowed her eyes and nodded slightly, clearly trying to form her next sentence in a way that would cause maximum impact. She might be chirpy, bubbly Kaylee most of the time, but get on her wrong side and the girl had a powerful sharp tongue. “Tell that to Inara.” She turned on her heel and stalked out of there, leaving Mal reeling slightly that he’d led himself into that one.

He snarked his way through the meeting with Fanty and Mingo without really paying attention. Instead, his mind settled on Simon, River, and what Kaylee had said, and refused to budge. Inara had announced she was leaving and he’d made no effort to stop her, even though everyone knew he didn’t want her to go. But at least things between them hadn’t advanced past the early stages, where they just danced round each other without saying anything real, anything deep. And he knew that they were never likely to, either, so he’d watched her walk off his boat for good with nothing more than a handshake and some verbal niceties.

Simon, on the other hand, had slept in his bed every night since she left, and that put something of a different slant on the whole issue. Kaylee had said not to be hasty, but as usual he hadn’t listened. Not only had he not tried to stop Simon from leaving, he’d actually told him to go. Yelled it, if he was being picky.

Of course, Inara had never punched Mal so hard that she’d knocked him to the floor, and Mal was a prideful man. And just where the hell had Simon learnt to punch like that, anyway? Mighta had the doctor out on a few more jobs if he’d known he had that kind of strength in those pasty white hands of his.

He was stopped from thinking about the other strengths that lay in Simon’s hands by the sounds of a scuffle. Pulling back the fan that was hiding the four of them, his heart sank at what he saw. He only had time to register the basic facts: River, people screaming, and unconscious folk strewn all over the floor of this place that was supposedly anti-violence.

He stood at the top of the stairs moments later, searching through the locker for his gun. While the majority of his brain was filled with ‘ _girl’s gone ruttin’ crazy, gotta put a stop to it_ ,’ there was still a little part at the back wondering exactly where Simon was hiding himself and wishing he would get over and sort the damn girl out.

When Simon did appear beside him, Mal hadn’t even noticed. He was focusing more on the gun that River had trained on his forehead, since the carnage around the bar would lead him to believe that she wasn’t planning on leaving any survivors.

“Eta Kooram Nah Smech!”

Simon’s voice rang out and River fell to the floor. Mal looked over at Simon, down to River, and back again before he ran down the steps to pick the girl up, kicking Jayne awake on the way. Simon waited nervously behind him, clearly wanting to know what Mal was planning to do next.

Mal wouldn’t mind knowing what he was planning to do, either, ‘fore he went ahead and announced said plan to other folk.

He still didn’t really know by the time he got River back on Serenity. Simon was standing only inches behind him, not saying a word or attempting to take charge of River. Mal was hoping that when they got back, Zoe would do that thing that she had a habit of doing, where she came up with a suggestion and made it sound like it had been Mal’s idea all along.

It wasn’t until he’d chained River up in the storage locker that he realised it wasn’t going to happen like that this time, and he’d have to rely on Simon shedding some light on the whole sorry matter before he came to any sort of conclusion.

Simon had been closer behind him then he would have liked as he’d carried River back to the ship, and as he turned around from closing the door on River, he was glad to see Simon coming towards him from the other side of the room. Simon’s breath on his neck, all distracting, was the last thing he needed.

“May I see her?” His eyes were pleading with Mal in a way that would normally be very hard to say no to, but Mal was still fuming with Simon for arguing with him, for getting them all into this, and mostly, for threatening to leave. Plus the fact that he knew how to put River out made him fairly certain the doctor had known all along that something like this was likely to happen.

Ignoring the question, he looked Simon dead in the eye, his gaze steely. “I believe you’ve got some storytelling to do.”

Simon’s tale unfolded, and Mal’s anger bubbled up to the surface again. As Simon tried to make it clear that he hadn’t known, nobody had told him what River could be capable of, Mal lost it completely, slamming Simon onto the table. The sudden movement caused Kaylee to jump out of her seat and move down to the next chair in a mixture of shock and fear.

“Eight months,” Mal snarled. “Eight months you had her on my boat knowing full well she could go monkeyshit at the wrong word and you never said a thing-”

“I brought her out here so they couldn’t get to her.” Simon’s voice was maddeningly composed. Mal had to struggle to stay angry, when what Simon was really making him want to do was throw him against the table again and take him right there, putting paid to all those gorram rumours he just _knew_ were flying round the boat about the pair of them. There was just something so ruttin’ _attractive_ about Simon when he was at his most infuriating.

He gritted his teeth and ignored that thought. “My ship. My _crew_. You had a gorram timebomb living with us!”

The rest of the conversation followed in relative calm, Mal being stunned into near-silence by Jayne’s almost intelligent argument for leaving the pair of them behind, even though they all - probably Jayne included - knew Mal would never do that.

Simon turned to Mal again. “May I see her?”

This time Mal couldn’t turn down the plea, and stepped aside for him. A brief smile flashed across Simon’s face as he left the room, a mixture of relief that Mal appeared to be calming, and that the interrogation seemed to be over. For now.

No conclusions had been reached by the time they reached Haven. As Kaylee and Jayne sat around the campfire with some of the locals - Jayne surprising Mal with his adeptness at guitar playing - Mal joined Shepherd Book. He was looking for advice, and of course Book complied, though Mal wasn’t sure that what he’d been told was all that helpful. Simon stayed on the ship, and Mal knew he was going to have to come up with a plan of action, preferably sooner rather than later.

He found it hard to sleep that night, with no Simon by his side. He could remember very clearly the first time he let Simon into his bed. Inara had left early that morning, and for the rest of the day, everything Mal touched turned to shit. He’d spent most of the afternoon in the infirmary, getting little cuts and nicks fixed up, to the point where he was seriously considering just bedding down there for the night.

“You really are being incredibly clumsy today, Captain,” Simon had remarked as he stitched up an inch-long gash along the bottom of Mal’s foot. The captain had somehow trodden on a piece of metal on the floor of his bunk, and was claiming it had appeared from nowhere.

Not for the first time, Mal had noticed how nimble Simon’s fingers could be when he was tending to this kind of thing. Soft, too. And gentle. Boy was good at his job. Made a man wonder what else those fingers would be good for…

He’d snapped back to himself at that thought, and wondered if Simon had accidentally overdosed him on something, the amount of times he’d been in there that day.

“And incredibly willing to come here and get fixed up, too,” Simon had added, looking up at Mal for a second before returning to his work. “You usually have to be dragged kicking and screaming.”

Mal had grunted. “Can’t do any more damage to myself if I’m holed up safe in here.” He’d looked down at his foot before looking away again, admitting to himself that seeing the insides of his feet hadn’t been on his to-do list that morning, and he really saw no reason to add the experience to it, either. “’Sides. Nobody drags me anywhere. I come. I just got my priorities.”

Simon had smirked and finished the job in silence. When he was done, he’d held out a hand to help Mal down, refusing to let him put pressure on his handiwork so soon. Sighing, Mal had hopped down off the bench, an arm square around Simon’s shoulders and the other grasping tightly onto the hand that had snuck around his waist. To the casual observer it had probably looked more like he was supporting Simon, but if he was accepting Simon’s help, he’d at least be taking charge of the situation.

With Mal using something that fell somewhere between a hop and a limp, the pair had finally made it to Mal’s bunk. Absolutely adamant that he could make it down the ladder alone, Simon had conceded, and left Mal to his own devices. He’d stood out on the bridge for a while, Mal knew, listening out for anything untoward from the captain’s bunk, but when he’d been satisfied that Mal had gotten down there without incident, he’d turned to head back to his own room.

He’d almost been out of earshot when he heard it. “Ow.”

Realising nobody could see him, Simon had afforded himself a smile before heading back to investigate. It hadn’t sounded like Mal had been in any immediate danger or severe pain; it had sounded more like annoyance that he’d caused himself yet more harm on what was already a pretty awful day.

“Mal?” Simon had called out.

“I’m _fine_ ,” had been the exasperated reply, in a tone that implied that Mal was entirely not fine. Realising that Mal was across the other side of his bunk, Simon had taken a calculated risk, yelled “I’m coming down!”, and hopped down the ladder before Mal would have had a hope in hell of hobbling across the room to lock the door.

He’d been propped up against the wall, Simon remembered, still barefoot and leaning heavily on his uninjured leg. He’d glared at Simon then.

“’s just a burn,” he’d muttered, reluctantly holding his hand out for inspection as Simon had swiftly crossed the room and reached for it.

“A burn from what, exactly?”

Mal’s face had been sullen and almost petulant. “Coffee.”

Simon had rolled his eyes, letting go of Mal’s hand and instead reaching forward to yank the captain unceremoniously away from the wall. “Come on. Let’s get you into bed.”

Mal remembered being torn between two reactions to that sentence. Stopping himself just short of a sarcastic ‘why Simon, I didn’t know you cared!’, he’d instead gone with a much more captain-like “I ain’t a gorram child, doctor.”

Simon had instantly pulled all of his support away from Mal, and he’d watched as the captain lurched to one side. He hadn’t realised how much weight he’d been putting on Simon.

Watching with his arms folded and his eyes narrow, Simon had given Mal a glare of his own. “You might not want my help, Captain, but I’m not leaving until you’re tucked up in bed and can’t do yourself any more damage until at least tomorrow.” A pause. “It’s as much for my benefit as it is yours.”

Mal had collapsed onto the bed and sighed. “Fine. Then do something useful and help me get these buttons undone - it would seem to be a mite harder than I anticipated it would be with three fingers strapped together…”

Simon had choked back a laugh. “Really?” he’d replied, dryly. Dropping to his knees, he’d reached for Mal’s shirt and loosened the first buttons. As he’d worked down, Mal had shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, and for the umpteenth time Simon was left astounded at Mal being in such near-perfect shape after all that his body had been put through.

He’d reached out, tracing one of Mal’s many scars with his fingers, almost involuntarily. In the infirmary, he was always in a rush, fixing people up so that he could turf them back into action again. He’d been quite glad to finally get a chance to just stop and stare. He’d glanced at his hand. And apparently, to touch.

Mal had jumped a little at the initial contact, but as Simon’s fingers moved on to the next scar, and the next, he’d just let him continue. Simon had gotten this damned cute expression on his face, like he was half concentrating, half dreaming. He’d barely even noticed as Mal placed a hand over his and started to guide the doctor’s hand around the rest of his scars.

The rest of the encounter was more blurry in Mal’s head. He knew there was kissing, and he knew that he’d been the one to start it. He also remembered pulling away after realising what he’d done, and trying to backtrack, accusing Simon of drugging him, and Simon’s indignation that he most certainly had not.

And then Simon was climbing the ladder and Mal trying to stop him, pulling him back down by the seat of his pants and insisting he stay. To take care of him, if the doctor wanted to look at it that way. Mal didn’t much care, long as he was there.

He finally fell asleep, face down into his pillow, trying to remember those tiny details of that night, just in case Simon and River really did leave this time. He woke up to Wash’s voice coming through the comm, and before he’d even really registered that it was Wash’s voice he was hearing, he was standing in front of his screen, talking to Inara.

\---

Simon hadn’t wanted to sleep in his bunk. After all those nights in Mal’s room, his own seemed cold and impersonal in comparison. Instead he dozed in one of the armchairs in the dining room, where he could hear River, should she call. He woke from a very light sleep to hear Mal clanking around the kitchen, making coffee. He cleared his throat, trying to decide what, if anything, he should say.

“Coffee?” Mal asked, without turning round.

Simon knew Mal well enough to take this as something of a peace offering. “Please.”

He finished making the coffee and brought it over to Simon. He kicked gently at Simon’s ankle, and the doctor scooted over so that Mal could squeeze onto the chair with him. They sat in silence for a minute before Mal spoke.

“So I had a wave from Inara.” Simon turned to look at him, but Mal kept staring ahead. “Looks like she’s caught in some kind of trap. Probably whoever’s after River.” Mal glanced over at Simon. “We’re going in.”

Simon nodded. “Of course.” If Inara came back on board, what did that mean for him? He was under no illusions, Mal wouldn’t have bothered with him if Inara hadn’t left in the first place.

Mal lifted his arm, accidentally grazing his hand gently along Simon’s thigh as he did so. “It’s you I want.” Mal’s voice was rough and low in his ear.

Simon blinked, then smiled shyly. “Did I say it out loud?”

Mal laughed. “I know how your head works, Simon.”

“I don’t know if that’s good or bad!” Simon stood as he finished his coffee, taking Mal’s empty mug from him, too. “Now go. Be heroic and noble.” He turned around and leant back on the bench as he dumped the cups into the sink. “And try not to get shot.”

Mal grinned and came over to face him, one arm around Simon’s neck and the other hand in his hair as he kissed him. “Well now,” he smirked as he pulled away. “Wouldn’t be half as fun if I didn’t come back with something for you.”

“Bullet holes don’t count as good presents, Mal.”

Mal cocked his head. “I know, they’re so clichéd.” Simon could do nothing but laugh as Mal walked out, whistling. Simon knew he was lucky to be laughing at all, with all that was going on, and he had exactly the same thought a few hours later as he worked on Mal in the infirmary. He may have been joking when he warned Mal not to get shot, but he wasn’t surprised when Mal came back looking like he’d gone ten rounds with someone at least three times the size of Jayne.

He treated Inara first, at Mal’s insistence, even though her injuries were far more superficial than his own. As he fixed Inara up, Simon kept sneaking glances at Mal, trying to assess the damage in advance. Once he’d finished with Inara, he sent her out to sit with the others as they idly discussed their next move - idle only because they couldn’t decide anything without Mal.

Instructing the captain to remove his shirt, Simon went to close the door of the infirmary. As he did so, he heard Jayne remark to Zoe, “What’s the doc doin’ that for?” Simon pulled the door open again and Jayne turned to him instead. “What you doin’ that for? Mal ain’t shy.”

“He may not be shy, but I can hardly assess the damage and treat him quickly with you all chattering away out here.” He sighed. “It’s enough to drive a man - one who’s trying to concentrate, at least - to distraction.”

Jayne looked away, suitably chastened, and Zoe nodded. “You do what you need to do, Simon.” With a slight smirk, she added, “We‘ll keep Jayne at bay.”

Simon smiled gratefully and pulled the door shut again. He turned to Mal, who was sitting topless on the bench, for once looking almost meek. “I didn’t get shot…”

“Getting beaten to within an inch of your life isn’t really the compromise I was offering, Mal.” Simon poked Mal right in the middle of one of the angriest bruises on his chest.

“OW!” Mal jumped, and glowered at Simon indignantly. “That wasn’t very doctorly of you!”

Simon shrugged. “Perhaps not, but it was quite boyfriendly of me.” He lifted the antiseptic cream from where he’d set it down after treating Inara, and his voice softened. “Now let me take a look at you.”

Simon worked at cleaning Mal up as quickly as possible. The antiseptic was strong and Simon knew that it would sting - he soon noticed Mal’s knuckles starting to turn white from gripping the edge of the table so hard.

“Here,” he started, lifting Mal’s right hand from the table and putting it on his own shoulder. “Squeeze. Hard as you like.”

Mal looked dubious. “You sure? I’ve got a hard grip.”

Simon snorted, unable to hear anything but innuendo in that sentence. “So I’ve noticed.” He dove straight in with the next application of antiseptic before Mal could retort to that, and the captain’s nails dug hard into his shoulder.

He finished cleaning out the wounds, and turned his attention to getting them dressed. The most painful part over with, Mal let his hand drop from Simon’s shoulder, and instead began to play with the doctor’s shirt.

“Mal…” He sighed and tried to bat Mal’s hand away, but the captain was having none of it. “I need to finish this!” His voice came out as a not-very-convincing whine.

“So finish!” Mal grinned and leaned in closer to Simon’s ear. “Quickly.”

While Mal did his best to distract Simon from the job at hand with kisses on his neck and along his jaw line, Simon finished patching Mal up in record time. Before the spare bandage had even dropped onto the tray, Mal had his hands up inside Simon’s shirt and the kisses had worked their way round to his lips. Simon was used to using the infirmary for this, as Mal seemed to have developed a kink for it, and their nights often started in here before ending up in Mal’s bunk.

It meant that this time, though, Simon was hyper-aware of the small crowd of people outside the door to the completely un-soundproofed room. Pulling away from Mal with a smile, he threw his shirt at him. “Get dressed. Your public awaits…”

Mal took the shirt but made no effort to pull it on, instead grabbing for Simon’s hand and pulling the doctor back towards him. “I go out there, I gotta sound like I know what I’m doing. I like better it in here.”

“You have to tell them something, Mal.” He peered out of the window, where everyone appeared to be sitting in silence. “Even if all you say is that you don’t know.” Moving away from the door again, he perched himself next to Mal on the bench. “I’m sorry River and I have caused so much trouble.”

Mal shrugged, unable to assure Simon it wasn’t his fault, much as he wanted to. “No matter now. What’s done is done, and you’re a part of this crew.”

“What happened to ‘you’re guests on my boat’?”

“Oh, so _now_ is the time to get all pedantic about semantics?”

Simon had to laugh at that. “I guess not.” He jumped down from the bench and kissed Mal quickly on the lips, before pulling open the infirmary door and starting to clean up the instruments he’d used.

As Mal buttoned his shirt, the conversation started up again outside. Inara’s voice was the first to float into the infirmary. “We have every reason to be afraid.”

“Why, ‘cause this guy beat up Mal? That ain’t so hard!” Jayne sniggered.

Mal strode out of the infirmary at that, finishing straightening out his shirt as he went. “He didn’t beat me up! Nobody said that!”

Inara ignored the interruption. “He’s intelligent, methodical and devout in his belief that killing River is the right thing to do.”

Simon came to stand by the door, and watched the conversation with the distinct feeling he were intruding on something he wasn’t supposed to hear. He was glad to hear Wash stick up for him and River, and he knew Mal and Kaylee were on his side too. It was just a case of convincing the others that they were worth saving. The tone in Jayne’s voice was getting uglier and he could see Mal getting more and more annoyed.

“You wanna run this ship?” Mal spat.

“Yes!” Jayne answered without hesitation, and Mal stopped in his tracks, unsure how to answer that. Simon would have found it funny if it had been a more appropriate time for laughing.

“Well …” Mal paused again, and Simon willed him to come up with a smart retort. “You can’t!”

While Simon was inwardly groaning over that less-than-stellar comeback, Jayne was on his feet. “No offence, doc, I think it’s noble as a grape the way you look to River, but she ain’t my sister,” he turned back to Mal. “And she ain’t your crew. Oh, and neither is she exactly helpless. So where’s it writ that we gotta lay down our lives for her? Which is what you’ve steered us toward!”

“I didn’t start this.” Mal replied, calmer than Simon would have expected. If he’d made a comment like that, especially one in that tone of voice, it would have earned him a fist to the jaw for the privilege, sleeping with the captain or not. He also knew all too well that Mal may not have started it, but _he_ had. And as Jayne stalked off upstairs, he watched Mal and Inara share a moment, and made his decision. They had to leave, he and River would get away, as much as it would pain him to do so. Maybe then at least Mal would be safe.

Mal walked out of the room, clearly angry, and Simon watched as Inara followed. He’d wanted to go himself, but she’d gotten there first. Trying not to strain his ears and listen in, Simon instead turned to Wash and Kaylee.

“We’ll get off. River and I will get off at Haven-”

Kaylee interrupted him. “Nobody’s saying that.”

Wash held a hand out to clarify. “Nobody besides Jayne is saying that. And I don’t know if you recall the conversation we had not five minutes previously, but not only does Jayne want you and River off the ship - he wants to _run_ the ship.” He looked over at Zoe. “I think I can safely speak for all of us when I say that both of those things have an equally low chance of happening. You stay.”

Simon nodded slowly. He wasn’t agreeing to stay. He just wasn’t swearing he’d leave.

\---

Mal stared as River pointed to the Cortex screen. “Miranda.”

Miranda was a planet? That was an unexpected twist. He stepped forward slowly, hoping that he knew the girl well enough that he was right in thinking she wouldn’t shoot him. He wasn’t entirely confident of that fact, given her recent behaviour, but he was willing to take a chance on her.

He glanced at the Cortex as she stared at him, a somewhat serene expression on her face now that she’d finally solved the riddle. He gave a quick nod, and turned to leave. “Stay here. I’ll bring the others, and we can show them.” She put her gun down, and he took that to be a good sign. “Don’t … touch anything.”

As he left the bridge, unlocking all of River’s handiwork as he went, he found Zoe, Wash, Inara, and Kaylee waiting for him on the other side of the door.

“She’s up there. Got a little show and tell for us all, too.” He looked around. “Where’s Simon?”

Zoe shrugged. “Haven’t seen him since we started looking for River. Guessin’ he’s still searching.”

Mal’s heart sank. It was a small boat, if Simon were moving round the ship, one of them would have run into him by now. He turned back to Zoe. “See if you can bring Jayne round. The rest of you, get to the bridge.” He was on his way before anybody could ask where he was going.

Simon lay unconscious on the floor, an angry bruise starting to appear on his neck. Worried, Mal ran to Simon’s side. “Simon…” he whispered, slipping his arms underneath the doctor and lifting him gently. He carried him down the steps to the infirmary, and laid him out on the bench, starting to rummage for some smelling salts.

Hearing movement from behind him, he turned to see Simon trying to push himself up to a seated position on the table. Quickly moving over to him, Mal pushed Simon’s shoulders firmly back down.

“Mal?” he croaked.

Mal smiled. “I’m here.”

Panic flashed through Simon’s eyes as he remembered what had happened, and he tried to struggle against Mal. “River - she - I have to find her -”

“Steady now,” Mal interrupted, his voice the most soothing Simon had ever heard it. He held out his arm, and Simon took it gratefully, pulling himself slowly into a sitting position. “She’s fine. She’s waiting for us on the bridge.” Standing right in Simon’s sightline, he held up three fingers. “How many?”

Simon stared at him like he was an idiot. “Three, Mal.” He pushed himself off the bench and Mal sighed - apparently it was true what they say, doctors _do_ make the worst patients. “What are we waiting for?”

Mal stared. “You were unconscious, Simon.”

“I’m _fine_.” His voice was still a croak; from the look of the bruise, River had kicked him in the neck, and hard. Mal placed an arm tightly round Simon’s back as he began to guide the doctor out of the room. He was as anxious to hear what River had to say - or see what she had to show, as anyone.

Simon shrugged the arm away. “I said, I’m _fine._ ”

“You mean you _croaked_ that you’re fine. Which in my book would tend to suggest the opposite.” Still, he loosened his grip on Simon, settling for resting a hand on the small of his back, guiding the doctor through the ship. Simon didn’t say anything; he may be incredibly stubborn when it came to issues like this, but he was certainly grateful for the contact.

And it would probably be best not to mention the possible concussion.

The next few hours were a blur of monstrosities to Simon. Landing on Haven, seeing the carnage and knowing that he was responsible, in part, for the death of an entire community was the hardest thing he’d ever had to face. They were a group of people who’d done absolutely nothing wrong.

When Mal announced his decision to travel to Miranda, it was the last straw for Simon. He clearly remembered spitting the words out as Mal had announced his plan - “Are you insane?” Even as he said it, though, he’d known they’d all follow Mal. They hadn’t needed the ultimatum - what use would staying on Haven be to any of them? They were in this together, even Jayne, and they knew it.

So they did it. They made their suicidal attempt at getting to Miranda, and miraculously, they survived it. He couldn’t believe the selfish sense of relief he felt as the hologram recounted what had happened there, that he _finally_ knew what River knew. And he knew he shouldn’t feel so relieved, especially since that wasn’t even half the battle.

There was something different about Mal, Simon noticed, as he gave his speech. There was a quality about him that had been missing for a good long while. Sure, he’d still been his usual self in most respects, cracking jokes and the like, but he’d been becoming more and more withdrawn. Yelling at Kaylee and meaning it. Arguing with Zoe for no real reason. Even his relationship with Jayne seemed to have turned sour, and with Jayne, that’s saying something.

“A year from now, ten, they’ll swing back to the belief that they can make people … better.” Simon hid a small smile as Mal glanced at River with something that could only be described as affection. “And I do not hold to that. So no more running.” There it was again. That glint in Mal’s eye. “I aim to misbehave.”

“Shepherd Book used to tell me: if you can’t do something smart, do something right.” Jayne took a swig from his bottle as he said this, then slid it over to Simon. As they all digested the fact that Jayne had said something halfway intelligent on behalf of the group, Simon was just overwhelmed by the fact that Jayne had chosen him to pass the bottle to. That was very nearly an endorsement, coming from Jayne.

“Do we have a plan?” He looked over at Mal as he took a swig and tried not to gag; what the hell _was_ that stuff, anyway? He knew it didn’t matter what the plan was. He’d follow Mal whatever he decided to do.

“Mr Universe. We haven’t the equipment to broadwave this code, but he can put it on every screen for thirty worlds. He’s pretty damn close, too.” Simon nodded as Mal spoke. He wasn’t even checking to see if the others were agreeing. It sounded like an excellent plan to him - the sooner the world knew the whole story, the sooner River would have a chance at a normal life. Theoretically, anyway.

Wash was the first to speak up with a flaw. “Still got the Reavers, and probably the Alliance between us and him.”

“It’s a fair bet the Alliance knows about Mr Universe. They’re gonna see this coming.” Zoe didn’t seem like she was going to go against the plan, or come up with a better one, but she still looked somewhat dubious.

“No.” Mal face tightened, becoming deadly serious. “They’re not gonna see this coming.”

And Simon believed him.

Mal quickly assigned people to specific jobs. He dispatched Kaylee to the engine room to check that they could still pass through unnoticed. Zoe and Wash headed off to the bridge to check in with Mr Universe. He sent Jayne along to prep a suit for him, and Inara took River to start securing down anything that might need it.

That left him alone in the dining room with Simon. Simon would have wondered if Mal had done that on purpose, except Mal didn’t give him time to think it before answering the question for him. He let himself be pushed up against the wall as Mal trailed kisses wherever he could find bare skin.

Mal pulled away and grinned. Simon was beginning to suspect that Mal had somehow caught his concussion.

“Mal, what…?”

“We’re going to get through this.” Simon realised as Mal spoke that while they were all talking as though they were definitely going to survive, nobody had really voiced the fear that they mightn’t.

“I know.”

Mal grinned again, and kissed Simon quickly on the lips before turning, ready to go and find Jayne. “Just making sure.”

Simon smiled to himself as Mal disappeared out of sight. He wasn’t kidding himself into thinking what they had planned would be easy - but Mal believed they could pull it off, and he believed in Mal. The captain didn’t give his faith easily. If he thought it could be done, then it could be done.

Still, he busied himself as best he could, following orders from Kaylee in the engine room, making sure that everything heavy was attached in some way. They didn’t want anything to come flying off and knock them all out should the ride get more than a little bumpy. He was trying not to think too much about the idea of Mal sitting out there in the black, presenting himself as Reaver bait. As much as he had faith in the plan and in Mal, his tendency to worry still outranked that belief.

He collapsed into one of the chairs in the dining area as Jayne passed through on his way to the bridge. “Mal’s out.”

Simon sat with River and Inara, his hands clenching the arms of his chair until his knuckles were white. After what seemed like an age, during which time he’d thought up all sorts of terrible scenarios of things that might have happened to Mal, he heard a clanking sound as the captain dropped back into the ship.

He smiled to himself in relief as Mal hurtled through the dining area, hair still ruffled in an extremely sexy manner from the suit. Eventually the captain’s voice came through the system.

“Everybody strap yourselves into something.” As he ran to the engine room to pull Kaylee to safety and get her strapped in, he felt an adrenaline rush like never before. They’d been on the edge of a lot of danger since the day he joined the ship, but this was something else. They all strapped themselves in as the ship lurched to the side, and Jayne checked they were fastened in properly. He didn’t quite get back to his own seat in time before he was thrown across the floor, and not for the first time, Simon thought to himself how that particular protocol was ridiculous. It wasn’t as if they were going to try and get away without fastening their own straps - Jayne should have spent the time getting himself sorted out rather than risking himself for them in the way he did.

It turned out that the notion the ride would only be ‘more than a little bumpy’ had been too hopeful. Simon had a feeling that his head could realistically be expected to come off at any second.

As they came to a screeching halt, the five of them looked around at each other, waiting expectantly for movement from the bridge. As they unstrapped themselves, Simon grabbed for his medbag, and breathed a sigh of relief as Mal emerged, loaded up with guns, leading the way.

He was so relieved that they’d made it through without blowing up that he didn’t even realise someone was missing until Kaylee spoke up.

“Wait, Wash - where’s Wash?”

His stomach sunk as he glanced at Mal. The captain was avoiding looking at Kaylee.

“He ain’t coming.” She carried on loading her gun, and everyone looked around, stunned. He felt a pang of guilt as he found himself thinking _at least Zoe hasn’t gone to pieces, or we‘d all be doomed.  
_  
“Move the gorram crates!” Jayne yelled, and they all snapped back into action. Simon helped Kaylee move one of them, and then slipped over to Mal.

“I can go back in,” he whispered. “See what I can do for Wash.”

The look in Mal’s eyes broke his heart. “Ain’t nothing you can do now.” He turned away, and moved to the door, signalling for Jayne to come over to him.

“Tell me you brought ‘em this time…”

Jayne grinned, and Mal took one from him. Simon started to load a gun as Mal and Jayne threw their grenades, slamming the door shut as they exploded, buying them some time, and then he watched as Mal ran to Zoe.

“Zoe.” He grabbed her by the arm, forcing her to turn and look at him. “Are you here?”

She stared at him. “Do the job, sir.”

Simon wanted the chance to talk to Mal before he left. Just a word of luck or a little touch; anything. But Mal was very deliberately avoiding Simon’s eyes, and as he turned to leave, it was Inara he shared that last glance with. Jealousy rose up in him and he turned away, concentrating on making sure his gun was loaded and ready.

It meant that he missed Mal watching him carefully for a second, before the elevator rose up out of sight. Instead he tended to River, cowering in the corner with her gun before Jayne took it away from her as she babbled to herself.

“She picked a sweet bung of a time to go helpless on us.”

Simon scowled at Jayne before hugging River close to him. “Shh, mei-mei. You’re going to be fine.”

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes, pressing her hands to her ears. “They’re everywhere,” she whispered.

“I know.” He wanted to stay with her but knew that he needed to be on the line with the others. He slipped back to his place, picking up his gun as Kaylee joined him, looking nervous.

“I didn’t plan on going out like this.” She fiddled with her gun, and he smiled sadly. There was just something wrong about seeing Kaylee with a gun. “I think we did right, but…”

For the first time since he’d announced their plan back on Miranda, Simon was angry with Mal. They should all be together, so that whatever happened, it happened to all of them. He shouldn’t have capitulated to Zoe’s suggestion out of sympathy for her grief, which Simon was suddenly so sure it was. Add to that Mal’s longing look at Inara, and Simon was suddenly seething with Mal.

He turned to Kaylee. “I never planned…anything. I just wanted to keep River safe.” He found the words coming out before he’d even planned what he was going to say, which is how he found himself doing one of the stupidest things he’d ever done. And Simon knew that the way his life had been going lately, that was saying a lot.

“My one true regret in all of this is never being with you.”

Kaylee eyes suddenly sparkled. “With me? You mean to say, as … sex?”

Simon smiled, trying to convince himself it was true. That _wasn’t_ what he’d meant to say, but if that’s how she wanted to take it, perhaps it was for the best. Maybe his relationship with Mal just wasn’t meant to be, maybe Kaylee _was_ the one he was supposed to be with. “I mean to say.”

She glanced over at the door, down to her gun, and back up to Simon. “Hell with this!” She slammed the cartridge home. “I’m gonna live!”

That made Simon feel better. Listening to the Reavers outside, he didn’t really expect any of them would survive it anyway, and if he’d given Kaylee some confidence, then he’d done the right thing with his last few minutes.

\---

“My bag.” Simon tried to stand, but only got halfway there before the bullet blasted into his stomach. He fell to the floor, and everything suddenly went dim. Inara’s face appeared in his line of vision as she took his hand and pressed it to the wound.

“Keep pressure here…”

Simon wanted to look around but he couldn’t. All he could think of now was that Kaylee needed medicine, there was no knowing what had been in those darts - he’d promised himself he would do anything he could to save her and he was damn well going to keep that promise ‘til the very end.

“My bag. Need … adrenaline … and a shot of calaphar … for Kaylee.” He coughed, the pain becoming too much. “I can’t … River …?”

She took his hand as she knelt down by his side. He was pleased to see her looking pretty much in tact, unscathed, in one piece. “River, I’m sorry…” He coughed again, and she shook her head, tears running down her face.

“No, no.”

Simon knew he was almost dead. Without his med bag there was no way he’d survive, and even with it, the chances were slim without a doctor to operate. There was a strange sense of symmetry to the whole situation, considering his first day on Serenity it had been Kaylee with almost the exact same wound.

He gripped River’s hand as tightly as he could. “I hate to leave…”

“You won’t. You take care of me, Simon. You’ve always taken care of me.” She looked at the blast doors, knowing it couldn’t be long until the Reavers made it through. Simon suddenly realised what she was going to do, wanting to stop her, but without the strength to even yell out for her to stay. “My turn.”

And that was it. She was gone, through the door. She threw his bag back in, and Inara scrambled to find what he’d asked for. She gave him the adrenaline, bringing him back slightly, giving him a few more minutes. After giving Kaylee the calaphar, Inara returned to Simon’s side, holding his hand again. She smiled down at him.

“Mal wouldn’t be very happy with me if I let you die, Simon.”

Simon tried to shrug but was in too much pain. “He’ll find a new doctor.”

Inara laughed a little. “You’re more to him than just a doctor and you know it.”

“Tell him I said-”

Inara put her finger on his lips and winked. “Whatever it is, you can tell him yourself.”

Simon shook his head. “I’m not going to make it.”

He believed that, too. He knew what this kind of wound did to your body, and without proper medical treatment, there was no chance… but whenever he closed his eyes, ready to go to sleep and never wake up, Inara started talking. It made Simon smile. Of all the crew, she was the last person he expected to be bonding with at a time like this. He couldn’t remember anything she’d been talking about, he just knew that her voice was keeping him awake, keeping him grounded. Keeping him _alive.  
_  
There was a rattle from the direction of the lift. _Funny_ , Simon thought, sluggishly. _Inara said the lift wasn‘t working.  
_  
And then there Mal was, looking as beaten and bloodied as Simon had ever seen him, but absolutely one-hundred percent alive. Simon turned his head to look up at him, and Mal let out a breath he’d been holding since stepping out of the lift to see Simon lying there, motionless. He looked at the others. They were in a bad way, but they all made some small movement to show they were alive. He let more relief wash over him as he held on to his side.

Someone was missing.

“It’s done. Report?” He realised who. “River?”

Inara looked down. Simon closed his eyes, and Zoe glanced at the blast doors.

Jayne opened his mouth to speak, and then… the doors opened. As they pulled apart, Mal saw River standing there, her body completely rigid, gripping her axes tightly. All of the Reavers were dead. Every last rutting one. He’d never been so glad to see a piece of Kaylee’s handiwork fail, as the doors most certainly had reopened after they closed.

It wasn’t until the Operative had given the command for the troops to stand down that he truly relaxed. He managed to gather the strength to lift Simon up, and carried him back into the ship. Inara and River walked either side of Kaylee, supporting her as she limped along. Zoe and Jayne followed, both walking alone, Zoe hanging back the furthest. She was the only one who was in no hurry to get back onto Serenity.

Simon finally passed out before Mal reached the infirmary. As he laid Simon out on the table, a wave came through from the Operative’s troops offering help. Mal couldn’t help but laugh at this, and switched off the screen without even giving an answer, the notion of accepting their help was so ridiculous.

He knew Zoe wasn’t up to the job of removing Simon’s bullet this time, and he didn’t trust himself to do it either. Instead, Inara volunteered, with River assisting. Her ability to keep a steady hand came in useful since the operation was so delicate, and Inara remembered with startling clarity exactly what Simon had done the day he’d pulled a similar bullet out of Kaylee. A good thing, too, since there was no way Simon would be conscious for this, so there’d be no chance of him talking her through it.

Mal paced up and down the room for a few minutes before River threw him out. He was in so much shock that she gave such a bold order that he did exactly what she asked, and instead stood outside, peering through the window. Simon was getting paler and paler, and so, come to that, was Inara.

The fact that River was still calm was the one thing keeping him sane standing out there. No chance Simon was close to gone if she hadn’t felt it yet.

He sent Jayne to sit with Kaylee, and gave him instructions to come running if her condition changed. As it was, she just seemed to be drowsy, but could feel all of her appendages, which Mal took to be a good thing.

Inara finally emerged from the infirmary, her hands shaking and her face whiter than Mal had ever seen it. He glanced over his shoulder, torn between sitting Inara down and making sure she was okay, and going in to see Simon.

River came out just behind her and made the decision for him. She skipped towards the dining room and then turned back to Mal, holding a hand out to Inara. “Tea calms her soul.” She nodded towards the infirmary, or more specifically, towards Simon. “You can calm his.”

Inara squeezed Mal’s arm with a smile as she passed to join River in the dining room, and Mal watched until she was out of sight before going in to join Simon. He nervously wandered around the room, fiddling with various things on shelves and in drawers, sneaking furtive glances over at Simon.

By the time he finally got up the courage to go over and sit beside him, he’d prepared himself for how bad Simon was going to look. He lifted Simon’s hand and sat there, clasping it in both of his, for a good half hour before Simon started to come round.

Simon’s head rolled to the other side so that he was facing Mal, and his eyes flickered open. He smiled to see Mal sitting in front of him.

“Bullet holes don’t count as good presents, Simon.”

“So I’ve heard.” Simon tried to laugh, but instead triggered a coughing fit. Mal jumped up from his seat, looking worried.

“I’ll go get -” He stopped. Go get who? The doctor himself was the one lying on the infirmary table having a coughing fit - Inara had managed to follow instructions, but she didn’t have a sudden detailed knowledge of patient aftercare in her brain.

Simon reached out for Mal’s hand again. “Sit back down,” he wheezed, sleepily. “Inara did a good job. I just need to rest.” He’d fallen asleep again almost before he’d finished the sentence. Mal sat back down with a smile, kissing Simon’s hand, still holding it tightly.

“I’ll be here.”

He heard a slight sniff from the doorway and turned to see Kaylee leaning heavily against the wall. She stiffened as she realised he’d spotted her. “Oh, I - uh. I didn’t mean to … to intrude.” She stood on her toes and peered towards Simon. “Is he…?”

“He’ll be fine.” He held out his hand and motioned for her to come stand beside him. “Inara can apparently add ‘budding surgeon’ to her never-ending list of talents.”

As she limped towards him, Mal scrambled to stand up and give her his seat. She shook her head insistently, pushing him back down by the shoulders. “You ain’t even taken the time to clean yourself up yet, Captain. I’m just dandy right here, don’t much like being forced to lay down when I’m nothing but a bit tired.” She glanced down at where Mal and Simon’s hands were joined, then looked away quickly. “So you and he? You’re…you?”

Mal nodded slowly. “Yeah. I guess we’re … we.”

“I guess I knew.” She laughed quickly. “I mean, not about the two of you, that part’s new. But that it wasn’t me he wanted.” She reached out and pushed some hair back out of his face. “Even after what he said …” she glanced at Mal and realised he probably didn’t know what Simon had said to her earlier, and perhaps now wasn’t the time to bring it up. He’d certainly gotten her worked up enough to still be _alive_ now by saying it, and she couldn’t - and wouldn’t ever - do anything but thank him for that. “Well, it don’t much matter what he said.”

She leant over and kissed Simon on the forehead, and then turned and did the same to Mal. “You just make sure you get some rest yourself, Captain,” she smiled, before leaving the two men alone again.

It was almost a week before Simon and Mal were both healed enough that they could be considered “up and about”. Mal was in more pain after the first night’s sleep than he had been before he nodded off - he suspected the shock of the ordeal had numbed him to begin with. Sleeping hunched across Simon probably hadn’t helped with the healing of the stab wound, either.

Jayne and Zoe had taken care of Wash’s body. Mal hadn’t wanted Zoe anywhere near the job, and had tried to convince her to let Jayne do it alone, but she was insistent that she was going to do it herself. Eventually she conceded and accepted Jayne’s help.

Inara made the funeral arrangements as best she could on such a sparse planet. Mal knew she’d been worried that the ceremony wouldn’t do the three men justice, but even he had to admit that the service was beautiful.

Simon stood with Kaylee, most of his weight on a walking stick. He took her hand in his, relieved that for once there was no need to worry if she would take his actions the wrong way. As the tears rolled down her face, he squeezed her hand tightly and she rested her head on his shoulder.

He glanced over at Mal, standing beside Inara. The two men shared a sad smile. They’d discussed the situation that morning whilst getting ready for the service, and even though by now everyone knew they were together, they’d agreed that today wasn’t the day to make it obvious. It wasn’t about them.

River stood to the other side of Simon, watching as Zoe lit the rocket. As it soared up into the sky, Mal wrapped an arm around Inara’s shoulder and she lifted her hand to meet his.

\----

Kaylee popped her head into Simon’s room. The doctor was in bed, reading. She grinned and wandered in, settling herself on the bed by his feet.

“Hey, Simon.” She sat there for a minute, pleased that she and Simon had reached a state of friendship again, before remembering why she’d been sent. “Captain wants to see you.”

Simon closed his book. “He does?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Don’t know what for.” He pulled back the covers and set his feet onto the floor. He was shirtless, and Kaylee took a second to admire the sight as Simon reached for his shirt. “Oh, I wouldn’t bother with that. Sounded like Mal was in something of a hurry.”

Simon frowned. Kaylee was up to something, he was sure of it - he just couldn’t quite put his finger on what. “Where is he?”

“Engine room.” She grinned. “Gave me the afternoon off, too.”

Dropping his book onto the bed, Simon padded out of the room and along the corridor, wishing he’d at least stopped to put on shoes. He still limped slightly, but not enough that you’d notice if you didn’t know he’d recently been shot in the gut.

“Mal?” He poked his head round the door to see Mal wrenching a bolt into place above his head.

“Simon!” he grinned, tossing him a wrench. “Come, get greasy with me!”

Picking up the wrench, Simon frowned slightly again. There was definitely something afoot. Mal pointed to where he wanted Simon to start work, and he went along, reaching up and starting to unscrew the bolt.

It was only seconds before he felt the heat of Mal’s body behind him, and he smiled to himself. Mal reached up, wrapping his arms around Simon’s and pulling them down, nibbling his ear as he did so.

He dropped his arms to Simon’s waist and pulled the doctor close, being careful of his newly-healed wound. Resting his chin on Simon’s shoulder, he moved his mouth to Simon’s ear. “Thought we could try somewhere new,” he muttered, with a smile. 


End file.
